


Smile For All The Unwanted

by Rixxy8173571m3W1p3



Series: The Fluffy Adventures With Your Boyfriend Doofus Rick [4]
Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Consent, Doofus Rick Being Sweet, Doofus Rick is adorable, Established Relationship, F/M, Gift Giving, Hot Chocolate, Music, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Popcorn, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 21:05:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13062132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rixxy8173571m3W1p3/pseuds/Rixxy8173571m3W1p3
Summary: In this fic the reader learns that everything matters, even the unwanted





	Smile For All The Unwanted

Every so often, when he found out that there would be a yard sale, Zeta-7 would ask you to join him. What one would find was the usual batch of junk, the kind of things people should just throw away. It didn't take you long to know whether or not you would buy anything, but he would browse as though they were treasures, picking up each item which caught his attention. On this occasion, you wanted to question him, wondering why he had bought a whole table of broken electronics, a wobbly coffee table, and a rusted music box, but the soft, melancholic, paternal look he bestowed on them had quieted you.

These items which no longer held any meaning to other people, had meaning to him. It was this that made you decide to look around again, to see if you had missed out on any of those so called treasures. There was a set of figurines you thought might be nice, but you stopped in front of the pile of plushies. How had you missed this? Battered, and dirty, the stuffed dog had certainly seen better days, but you chose him.

Zeta-7 did happen to question your reasoning for buying the stuffed dog, and you told him that you knew it was yours. 

* * *

 

The world was spinning. Round and round you went, until you have had enough. You didn't have a computer chair at your house, so when you saw the one in his office, you sat down, and spun around until you thought you were going to throw up. No you weren't high, or drunk, but just a silly human who kept themselves easily entertained. 

Zeta-7 chuckled from the doorway, and you paused, as though you were in trouble. You did warn him that you tended to wander about, and if left unsupervised, might hurt yourself. He asked if you would join him in the garage, for he had something to show you. Various paintings lined the walls of the hallway, their themes ranging from winter scenes to fantasy worlds, like the kind you'd see in shows like Star Trek. You almost hit your head on the English ivy while entering the garage, and were careful not to step on the pothos vine.

In the past, he warned you about the dangers of his garage, and of the items and chemicals he kept in there, so you avoided it. Oh, but he had so much cool stuff in there. You two stopped in front of his work bench, and on it sat the ornate box. It must have been another one of his gadgets, or a repair job. Still, it must have been important if he wanted to show you.

You asked what it was. It seemed this was the question he was waiting for you to ask. You swore there were stars in his eyes, this joy, why it made him look years younger. As he explained all the mechanical components, going through the process used, and what it was, you were taking photos of him to look at later. Rick didn't seem to mind, but he paused in the middle of his explanation. 

You put away your phone, apologizing, but not sorry to have a few more cute pics of him. With your permission, he took your hand and placed it upon the box. It was vibrating, as though it were alive. Together, you opened the box, a prerecorded greeting could be heard from the hidden speakers. Then, a small figure sprung out of the metal flower inside.

The figure looked like Zeta-7, from its chest cavity popped out a tiny stringed instrument. It's glass eyes winked, and the song played, with a chip tune accompaniment. You gasped, this song, it was the one he played the day you met Zeta-7.

* * *

For years, you two had lived in the same town, in the same neighborhood, only houses away from each other. It was funny how you two seemed to miss each other, though Rick would later tell you it was because of his job. You had been carrying groceries, thinking of what you might have for dinner when you tripped. You cursed to yourself, and almost cried when you realized your doritos broke. Zeta-7 had been working in the garage at the time, and saw when you fell across the street.

Together, you two mourned over the loss of your precious doritos. After you brought your groceries to your place, he invited you for some tea. You were wary, you didn't really know him, but he thought it would be a great way to get to know his neighbor. In the end, he brought over a cordless tea kettle, and you two drank your cheap green tea on your porch, talking about everything and nothing. You might have passed it off as nothing but company with a stranger, but what won you over was his little performance.

With his phone, he played the song on a ukulele app.

_ Smile, though your heart is aching _

_ Smile, even though it’s breaking _

_ When there are clouds in the sky _ _  
_ _ you’ll get by _

_ If you smile through your fear and sorrow _

_ Smile and maybe tomorrow _

_ You’ll see the sun come shining through  _

_ for you…. _

The rest, was history.

* * *

Back inside the house, you two sipped on hot chocolate. In the corner of the living room, was a neat coffee table you hadn't seen before. You kneeled beside it, and passed your hand over the mosaic tile. Underneath one of its legs was a book, missing its cover. You knew, this must of been one of his yard sale finds, but with a makeover. You asked why he didn't fix the wobbly leg, he told you it gave it character, and that the book needed a friend.

Over and over you passed your hand over the table, strangely entranced by how cool it felt to the touch. It had been broken, but he made it right. Thinking back to the music box, it was the same old music box, but with a makeover, possibly using parts from the electronics. Resting your head on its surface, you found comfort in this knowledge. Zeta-7 saw the best in everything and everyone, even when you couldn't see it yourself.

You sat there so long, that he joined you in admiration of the table. Why, you sighed, and he told you that he thought you needed a friend. No, you replied, you were talking about the knick knacks. Resting his head beside yours, he told you a fantastical story, one you that you didn't think you could believe. He told you about his life, about the universe, and how there were other Ricks, but he was a fluke among their kind.

No, he was not an alien, but he had been to space. No, he was not a clone, but he knew how to create one. In his way, he explained as one would with a child this information, which could one day put you in harm's way. Like the items which he had bought, what others considered garbage, useless, and unwanted, he thought of himself like them. In his home, they became like kin, and he'd find a way for them to be happy just like he strived to be.

Foolish it was to personify the lifeless, items which could never love him back, but they were his, and he gave them a home. Like his plants, they were his friends, and though he knew better, they remained so. You knew that he was different, and you found that at the end of his story, it didn't matter. Zeta-7 was himself, he was his own person, and no clone, no alien, or creature could say otherwise. Above a whisper, he asked if you were disappointed.

No, you smiled, because you had chosen him. Just like he had chosen to see the good in everything, even if it meant nothing, he saw something in you, and you saw it in him. With his permission you laced his hand, and told him about the stuffed dog you had bought. After you had taken it home, you fixed him up. Though he would always look a little worn, it's story wasn't over.

Rick sighed, giving your hand a squeeze. Your kindred spirit, he was too pure for this universe.Something about you must have been good if he wanted you. Out of everyone in the universe, this silly old man, who loved his plants, crafts, and ukulele, wanted you. You hummed, a giggle escaping you when he told you that you looked pretty at this angle. You asked if he would show you the music box again, and he jumped up and ran for it.

Funny, he moved like running was something he was used to doing. Reluctant, you moved away from that little table, but you were sure that you'd be together soon.

* * *

Your hot chocolate wasn't so hot anymore, so you popped it in the microwave. You wondered what was taking him so long, and feeling a little hungry, popped some popcorn. Considering his sweet tooth, you dressed it up with toppings. Another thing you two shared was your love of toppings. Like, if you two ordered a pizza, you'd want as many as they are willing to put on, and the funnyman that he was would ask for a larger pizza just so that you two could have even more toppings.

With your bowl of buttery, crunchy goodness, you found that sweet spot on the couch, and waited. After twenty minutes, you left the empty bowl in the sink and wandered around, poking things you liked. You knocked on the garage door, and entered. He was tinkering with something, and froze when you laughed. Zeta-7 told you he was inspired to create a device, but it's purpose was a surprise.

You sighed, knowing what would be best to do. You told him you were going to go home, and his hands stopped. He didn't want you to go, he liked having you around, having someone to ask questions, to interrupt the silence which seemed to follow him. And you, you didn't want to distract him, so you told him it would be best if you went home. Zeta-7 offered to walk to walk you to your home, but it was alright.

Sometimes he didn't understand, and you had to choose your words carefully. There was no need to be desperate, to constantly please, and while it made you happy, it hurt you to see him so anxious. You told him that you loved it when he was himself, even like this, being the man who adored science as much as he loved everything else that he did. You turned to go, but he asked if you could wait a moment. Removing his goggles and gloves, he stood, making his way to where you were.

If you allowed him, he would go entertain you, then come back to finish the job after you left. Yet, if you let him go, he could finish the job, but feel guilty, and anxious over what caused you to go. You told him to choose what he wanted to do. You didn't want him to feel guilty, and you didn't want to stand in the way of his work, and whatever he chose, you'd respect his decision. You, he said, he wanted to be with you.

Be it here in the garage, or in the house, if you were around, he'd be able to relax a little. So you stayed, even for a little while longer. You asked questions when appropriate, handed him tools if they were out of his reach, and flirted when he was doing calculations, causing him to drop his pencil. When he was satisfied, he stopped tinkering, and apologized if it was boring. If watching him mutter to himself, blissful, with those gentle hands, carefully piecing together a device that did who-knows-what was boring, then you didn't deserve him.

What had he done for you to want him he asked. How was it possible, that anything or anyone could like him, when he was so himself. You asked for his permission, his reply firm, but doubtful as to why you'd want to touch him. Pulling your chair close, your knees touched his.Intertwining your hands, you kissed them, and you colored him a picture with words. 

As a writer, you knew a great deal of words which could flatter or please, but sincerity in the dearest form would be enough. You pointed out that he was an elysian creature, that his creativity, and how his capable hands created works of peace and love. Combing your fingers through his hair, you described his intelligent, orphic, beautiful mind. And while he was not young, he had varedity, and how his thoughts communicated with his body, and how his body, expressed itself so honestly, that you were surprised the whole world hadn't fallen in love with him. You weren't old enough, creative enough, or intelligent to describe him completely, for many of his virtues were ineffable.

If one were to trace those invisible qualities, they would lose themselves in a universe with so many stars, they would die before they could count them all. Zeta-7 wasn't great, but unforgettable. You told him to stop you if he was uncomfortable, but he was contemplative. You thought you said too much and pulled away, but his grip was strong, and he told you he wished to know the rest.

You told him he could not fix you, that these feelings of yours weren't broken, but designed, and with his actions, he painted you splendor. In his ear, you whispered every way he drove you wild, and how it was dangerous for him to be around someone like you, since you were at a constant state of wanting to kiss him. Then you pulled away a little, and sighed, telling him because you were only human, you would kiss him if you didn't govern yourself. And while he was attractive to you, it was only because his soul was so beautiful. Wrapping your arms around him, you kissed him softly, telling him you should go.

Yet, not before he gave you the ornate box. You couldn't believe that it was for you, you didn't even feel like you deserved it, but he wanted you to have it. Why, you asked him, why did he make the music box for you. As though it weren't already obvious, he chuckled. Being your neighbor, he had seen you over the years, was curious, but afraid to say anything. Rick suspected you were quite a character, and that when you two finally met, all he wanted was to know you, and see you smile back.


End file.
